


You're Here

by doublecheckyoself



Series: Omega/Beta Malec [1]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Beta Magnus Bane, Blood, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Jace is there for like two seconds, M/M, Maryse tries but she's not that great, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Sexual Content, Nausea, Nesting, Omega Alec Lightwood, Omega Verse, POV Alternating, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attacks, Vomiting, does it count as a sex talk not sure, hm, not really - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-06-28
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:41:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24956266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doublecheckyoself/pseuds/doublecheckyoself
Summary: Alec is about to undergo his first heat ever, and surprise surprise, he's nesting.  What will happen when he finds something that sends him into a panic?
Relationships: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood
Series: Omega/Beta Malec [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806238
Comments: 12
Kudos: 259





	You're Here

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is your usual reminder that if you don't like, don't read. Also I would appreciate it if you read the tags before you dove in! 
> 
> Have fun, guys!

_Okay, Lightwood. Breathe._

Alec takes a deep breath, ignoring the nervous, nauseous squirm in his stomach as he lets it out through pursed lips. He’s been tied up in knots for days now, and it’s driving him insane. Admittedly, it makes sense that he’s nervous—he’s off suppressants for the first time since before his presentation, and he’s about to undergo his first ever heat. His first ever heat, and it’s going to be _with Magnus_. 

It’s a big step. A big commitment. A big _deal_. Still, that doesn’t mean his brain gets a free pass to freak the hell out. He wants to do this, and he wants to do it right, and he doesn’t have time for this _anxiety_ nonsense.

Breathing in once more, Alec taps his fingers against his thighs. He’s a man on a mission, he reminds himself. The mission objective: find something that smells like Magnus. He tried the sheets of their bed already; Magnus changed them on a whim a few days ago, and they smell good but not very strong. Still, Alec pulled them off the bed and bundled them up in a pile on the floor in the living room, letting their scent wash over him. He just… he needs more. Something stronger. Unwashed clothes would honestly be best—where would he be if he were unwashed clothes?

He pokes into the loft’s walk-in closet, working his way through the clothes hanging there. They all smell like Magnus, but in a superficial way—the _zing_ of his magic isn’t quite as impersonal as the scent of detergent, but they don’t smell like _him_. His magic is part of him, but it’s a relatively small part of his scent.

Annoyed, Alec steps back, crossing his arms over his chest. The nausea is only growing, prodding at his gut. He wants—no. He _needs_ to find something that smells like Magnus. Before things get bad. Before something goes wrong.

He’s aware, in a distant sense, that this is probably the nesting instinct talking. His mother, strong omega that she is, has told him about it before. Never in much detail—she just mentioned it offhand in relation to heats and mating. Said he might feel the urge to nest, but that not every omega did, and not to expect it. Of course he’d be the kind of omega that felt nesting instincts so intense that he was starting to feel a little sick—always at odds with his parents expectations. 

A low growl eases out of his chest. He shakes himself, startled that the noise came from him. Thinking about his parents is only making the feeling in his gut worse. He needs to get back to the task at hand.

…A task that wouldn’t be so difficult if Magnus didn’t clean everything with a snap of his fingers. Damnit. Alec groans aloud, swiping a hand down his face. He feels—not great. The anxiety is gnawing at him, his sense of smell heightened and skittish. He has a feeling that his hackles would be up if he were anywhere but in the loft right now, anywhere but absolutely surrounded by a low level of Magnus’s scent. He just—he needs something _stronger_. Something that will set his mind and his instincts at ease.

He closes his eyes, ignoring his churning stomach to sniff at the air. There has to be something, there has to— _there_.

He turns, letting his nose guide him. The scent—it’s coming from the apothecary. He doesn’t generally go poking around in there because he doesn’t want to disturb Magnus’s potion-making, but there must be an apron or something in there that Magnus has been using for a while, something that smells strongly like him. Alec can duck in, find it, and duck out with hardly anyone the wiser. He’ll apologize to Magnus later.

The scent gets stronger as soon as he opens the door, and Alec hums, his eyes squeezed shut. It’s powerful, there’s not doubt about that, but it’s… it’s setting him on edge. There’s something… off… about the scent. It smells more like Magnus than anything else he’s found so far, though, and he _needs_ it. He steps through the doorway, letting his nose and his ears guide him through the room until he comes upon the work bench in the center.

Unwilling to go feeling around without looking, Alec opens his eyes, looking down. His hands… they’re shaking. He swallows, his stomach pushing up the back of his throat. He’s never felt this tense in the loft before, and a part of him is telling him to leave the scent alone, to just go and wait for Magnus to come home and take the clothes he’s been wearing all day.

Another part of him, the part hooked to his omega instincts, doesn’t let him. He has to find the scent. He _has to_.

Swallowing heavily, Alec presses both hands to the surface of the work bench, taking shallow breaths. The scent is coming from somewhere beneath it, and after a long moment he ducks under, unwilling to take a full breath when everything feels so _overwhelming_. 

It gets worse the closer he gets. His heart pounds in his chest. Something bad has happened. Something very, very bad. Moving robotically, Alec lets his trembling hands skim over a large plastic container, slipping his fingernails under the lid to pry it open.

The scent hits full force the moment he does, and he nearly chokes on his own spit. He recognizes it at once—he was trying so hard not to put the pieces together, to keep himself under control, but faced with it directly he can’t _not_ piece it together. He knows the scent of blood. He knows it intimately. And this… this is Magnus’s blood.

_Wrong, wrong, wrong_. Alec’s gorge rises. He barely makes it to the bathroom before he’s throwing up everything inside of him.

***

Magnus hums. It’s been a good day. Long and exhausting, but still good, full of spellwork and summonings, the kind of time-sensitive things that he needs to get done before he takes time off. He’s been preparing for Alec’s heat for a while now—they’re expecting it to hit next week—which means that he’s been swamped with work, but he’s confident that after one last house call he will have completed everything that needs to be completed and he’ll be allowed to take a week off with Alec with no repercussions. 

He’s just about to portal to his last destination when his phone begins to ring.

It’s Jace. He sighs, picking up. “How can I help yo—?” he begins, only to be cut off.

_“Magnus, thank god. I’ve been trying to get hold of Alec but he won’t pick up and I can’t get into the loft.”_

Magnus blinks. “Why do you need to get into the loft?” he asks, a sinking feeling in his gut.

Jace, who normally can’t resist cracking a joke or ten, doesn’t so much as pause. _“Alec is freaking the hell out. I can feel it over the bond—he’s been freaked out all day but it was like he got slammed with it all of a sudden and I can’t—”_

Magnus hears the sound of Jace growling, low and harsh. The blond isn’t generally what Magnus would call ‘level-headed’, but all the same, Magnus has only heard that sound a few times before—all, coincidentally, when someone he loved was in trouble.

“I’m coming,” Magnus says, hanging up. Without waiting another second, he opens a portal to the loft, pushing through the instant it’s stable.

He finds Jace pacing on the sidewalk in front of the loft, his eyes wild. The instant Jace spots him he grabs him roughly by the shirt, pushing him toward the building. “Go,” he says, choked.

Magnus does. The moment he steps forward, however, he realizes what Jace meant by ‘ _can_ _’t get into the loft_ ’. Their wards, some of which are attuned to the emotional state of the occupants of the loft, are going absolutely haywire. They’re coiled so tensely that Jace, Alec’s _parabatai_ , registered as a threat. Even Magnus, who created the wards and is attuned to them as well, is finding some resistance.

Magnus swallows, pushing his way through. The wards were meant as a means to help Alec through his heat, to keep the loft safe while he was at his most vulnerable, but now it seems as if they’ve backfired. Something is wrong, something is very wrong, and Magnus has _no idea what_ _’s going on_.

He grits his teeth, fighting his way up to the door. It’s locked, and with a locking rune, but the lock doesn’t matter when Magnus just takes the door off its hinges. Whoops—he’ll fix that later. The wards will keep everyone out, anyway. Right now he just needs to—

He’s halfway through the living room and on his way to the bedroom when the scent hits him. It’s the smell of heat. His senses as a beta aren’t as strong as an omega or an alpha, but even he can smell that something about it is wrong—instead of sweet and gentle, warm like sunshine, it’s sharp, cloying. 

Distress. A sick heat. He’s smelled it before, on werewolves who were experiencing their first heats after the change, when the stress made their hormones spike too high. It’s not a good scent, especially not when it has his Alexander’s scent threaded through it all.

Magnus keens on instinct, a questioning call. No response. He slows down, calling again, waiting. It’s agonizing, but the last thing he wants to do is distress his omega more—if he goes barging in he’s liable to get bitten, which will only make things worse for both of them. 

There’s still no response. He edges through the entrance to the master bedroom, calling in a low voice, but… the scent isn’t coming from there.

It’s coming from the bathroom.

Fuck. Fuck. Okay. Magnus has to do this carefully. He has to think this through, he has to think like a scared omega. Alec is being flooded with hormones right now, and his instincts will be on high alert. It’ll be a miracle if he recognizes Magnus right away, which means that right now, Magnus is a threat. A small space is easily defensible—but there’s only one exit, and if a threat is blocking that exit, Alec might feel trapped and then they’re back once again to the biting. 

Magnus chews his own lip, crouching down several feet away from the cracked bathroom door. He can hear slight moans now, harsh breathing, and his own instincts tell him that he needs to get in there, _now_. Maybe if he gives Alec something with his scent, Alec will realize it’s him and allow him in? Hm. 

It’s worth a shot, he decides. Alec’s distressed scent is incredibly strong—if Magnus didn’t know better, he’d have thought he stumbled on an omega with a dead mate. The only problem with that is that Magnus is right here, hale and healthy. Whatever happened… whatever or _who_ ever caused this… god. Magnus is going to _rip it to shreds_.

Just after he’s done consoling his omega, that is.

He calls once again, low and slow, letting Alec know he’s coming closer. With a snap of his fingers his shirt is off his back and in his hands—he rolls it into a tight ball, rubbing his face against it to make sure it’s saturated with his scent. Then, fingers crossed, he kneels down, pushes the door a little further open, and rolls it through.

He’s close enough now to see a little bit of Alec, long limbs curled up by the toilet and a flash of black hair. A moan transforms into something of a hiss as the shirt bumps into him, but despite the oddity of the sound, Magnus doesn’t feel a desire to laugh. He instead waits with bated breath as Alec pushes back away from his offering, disappearing from view as he pushes himself back into a corner.

“It’s okay,” Magnus says through the door. He sidles a little closer on his knees, snapping off his shoes and socks and preparing to snap off his pants, as well. “Alexander, sweetheart, it’s just me. It’s mine. I’m offering it to you, okay?”

A low moan, wrenched from somewhere deep inside Alec’s chest, rings out. He’s scared, so scared—the smell of distress is almost overwhelming. Magnus curses under his breath, snapping his pants off and balling them up, as well. He’s just about to roll them in, too, when there’s a hitch in Alec’s panting breath and then—

“Mags?”

Relief crashes over Magnus’s head. “Yes, Alexander, I’m here—I’m here,” he says. He crawls a little closer, watching as Alec’s hands—nearly swimming in an old, comfy sweater—gently paw at the shirt. A moment later Alec has snatched it up, likely pressing his face to it as he cries out. Magnus swallows, daring to come into the doorway, pushing the door open slowly so as not to startle his omega. 

Alec is pressed back against the tub, curled up with his knees to his chest. His flushed face is streaked with tears, eyes red, Magnus’s shirt clutched to his chest. He blinks up, eyes wet and glazed, as Magnus settles in the doorway.

Magnus’s heart twists at the sight. “I’m here,” he says again, and pushes his pants inside as an offering, slow and steady, watching Alec carefully.

Alec sobs, snatching them up, as well. He’s well and truly panicked, his whole body trembling, but there’s a note of confusion in his scent now. Magnus swallows his own pain—why is Alec confused that Magnus is here, what _happened_?—before he keens again, asking permission to come in.

This time Alec responds, an answering call wavering on his tongue. He seems reluctant to let go of the clothing, but that’s okay, because no force on earth could make Magnus take it away again. Magnus, High Warlock of Brooklyn and the most powerful warlock in North America, who is now crawling forward on his knees until he’s halfway into the little room. He settles back on his knees and bares his throat.

Alec makes a high, distressed noise, the scent of confusion growing. 

“Come on,” Magnus whispers. He tilts his head a little further. “Come on, baby. It’s me. You’re okay, I’m okay, we’re both okay, I _promise_ —”

Alec shakes his head, clutching the clothes tighter. He lets out another noise—a thick, pained noise, one that makes Magnus shiver where he sits. Magnus swallows. Then, telegraphing every move, he raises a hand to the gland at his own throat and presses the heel of his palm there, rubbing until he feels the scent oil slick on his skin. He raises the hand, holding it carefully palm up toward Alec.

“Here,” he says, voice so low he almost can’t hear himself. “It’s okay, it’s okay, scent me and you’ll see, okay sweetheart?”

He half expects to be bitten, to be completely honest. Alec’s eyes are glazed, staring at his hand as he reaches it forward, tears spilling over his cheeks. Magnus prepares for pain—even if Alec _does_ bite he can’t react, he can’t scare him worse—but the pain… it doesn’t come.

What comes instead is Alec’s nose, nuzzling hesitantly into his palm. Magnus lets out a breath, gently stroking Alec’s cheek as Alec presses his eyes closed.

“You’re here,” Alec says thickly, his entire body shuddering. This close the scent of sick heat is all-encompassing—it’s overwhelming. Still, Magnus manages to hum a yes, petting at Alec’s face.

“I’m here,” he says.

That’s all it takes. Alec all but tackles him, shadowhunter strength folding him into an embrace so tight he can hardly breathe. Alec ducks his head, pressing into the scent gland at his throat like he physically can’t do anything else. Magnus holds him close as he starts to sob.

***

The heat is everywhere. It’s like there is lava in his veins rather than blood, lava oozing out of his pores rather than sweat, lava streaming down his face instead of tears. He feels like he’s burning from the inside out. 

The only thought in his head—aside from the fact that Magnus is _here_ —is that this is decidedly _not_ how his mother described heats. She called them natural, beautiful, a heavenly connection between an omega and their mate.

The only thing Alec feels is _searing pain_.

“Hurts,” he moans, shuddering. He has both arms wrapped around Magnus’s chest like metal bands, his head pressed up under Magnus’s chin in a way that can’t be comfortable for the beta. He just—he feels like he’s suffocating, his clothes soaked through with sweat, and the only thing that makes it any better is the beta’s scent, cooling him from the inside out.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Magnus says. “Let me take this sweater off, okay sweetheart?”

Alec shudders again. He doesn’t—he can’t—

“I won’t let go,” Magnus whispers, as if he knows exactly what Alec can’t say.

Alec nods, sniffing through tears. He’s such a mess, he thinks with a choked laugh—but then Magnus is snapping and his clothes are gone and he’s pressed skin against skin with Magnus and it’s so good he feels like he’s going to _die_ —

“Sorry, sorry, I should have done that a bit more slowly,” Magnus says, holding Alec as his limbs go numb from the sudden change in stimulation. Alec hums—it’s the only thing he can do aside from clutch at Magnus’s back and struggle to lock his weak fingers together. “How are you doing?” Magnus asks.

“Huh-hot,” Alec pants, fighting his tongue to form the word. It’s a wonder Magnus can understand him, muffled as he is, but evidently he does, if the chuckle is anything to go by.

“They call it a heat for a reason,” Magnus says. His fingers stroke up and down Alec’s spine, blessedly cool despite the waves of heated hormones crashing over Alec’s head.

Alec moans. He still feels sick to his stomach, though it’s slightly better now. Less a roiling compulsion to empty himself and more a low pressure in his gut. It makes him want to curl up tight in his beta’s arms. He can’t imagine having sex like thi—

Oh, god. Heat, sex, mating. He’s supposed to—he should be—they were going to—

“Hey, hey, easy,” Magnus says, pulling him tighter against his bare chest. “What is it, love?”

Alec trembles. “H-heat,” he says. Chokes out, really. 

It takes Magnus a moment. Then he’s humming with understanding. “Shh, shhhh. We’re not doing that if you don’t want to.”

“Not?” Alec asks, unsure.

Magnus shakes his head. “Not if you don’t want to,” he says, more firmly now.

Alec winces, not quite understanding. His mom… she said that heats were about mating, about forming bonds. That was the reason he’d gone on suppressants before he presented—he wasn’t ready to mate yet. That was why it was such a big deal that he and Magnus were sharing this heat together _now_.

He whines, high in his throat. He just—he doesn’t _understand_.

“Alexander,” Magnus says, chin pressed to his hair. “It’s okay. Not every heat is good for mating—sometimes they’re just good for being close. We didn’t get a chance to talk beforehand, but I would never have forced you to have heat sex if you didn’t want to.”

“Oh,” Alec says, shaky. He’s not sure why he’s so surprised—of course Magnus wouldn’t do anything he didn’t want to do, just like he would never do anything Magnus didn’t want to do. It just… the option that he didn’t have to do it _for himself_ never even occurred to Alec.

He sniffs a little, burying in closer to Magnus’s chest. He’s never been more grateful for his beta in all his life than he is right now. 

“Tell me what you need,” Magnus whispers, soft and tender.

Alec swallows. “Don’t move,” he says.

Magnus hums, amused. “Not going anywhere,” he says.

They stay like that for a while, as Alec’s tremors slowly die down. He’s still hot, but he’s no longer burning, his body regulating a bit. He’s nearly asleep, in fact, when Magnus’s soft voice brings him back.

“Do you want to tell me what scared you, before?”

Alec stiffens, remembering what had sent him stumbling for the bathroom. The scent, that awful, _awful_ scent. He swallows hard, his heart suddenly pounding. “The blood, there was—so much blood—I couldn’t— _Magnus_ —”

***

Magnus knows instantly what blood Alec is talking about. With a snap of his fingers the bin in the other room goes up in flames, the bloody rags inside disintegrating just like that. He shushes Alec, cursing himself as he does. He should have known Alec would find them. God, how stupid could he be, leaving them just lying around when his omega was approaching his heat? What idiot would keep bloody rags around while there was a nesting omega in the house? He should have gotten rid of them after he was done with the spell that he needed them for, god, what is _wrong_ with him—?

He’s pulled out of his spiral by Alec, who is biting loosely at Magnus’s shoulder, his teeth sharp. He pulls back when Magnus gasps, licking at the red, unbroken skin he left behind.

“Don’t,” Alec says, once he’s soothed the spot to his own satisfaction. “You didn’t know I’d find them.”

“Sweetheart, you’re an omega with an incredible nose, of course you were going to find them—”

Alec huffs, an exhale of warm air. He smells so much calmer than he did a minute ago—perks of being in his beta’s arms, Magnus assumes. “You couldn’t have known I was going to start nesting. _I_ didn’t know I was going to start nesting.”

“Still—”

“No arguing,” Alec says, and Magnus shuts his mouth. Alec is right—now is certainly not the time. Right now they need to get up off the bathroom floor—preferably before Magnus’s ass goes completely numb.

Magnus lets out a breath, nuzzling into Alec’s hair. The scent of distress is still there—it won’t be completely gone until he can get Alec in the bath. For now, he’ll suffice with getting Alec into bed.

“You think you can move?” he asks softly, nudging Alec’s arms.

Alec considers it. “I’m—I’m not sure I can stand up on my own,” he admits. It’s clearly painful to say it out loud—he’s a shadowhunter, a nephilim, he’s supposed to be _strong_. Magnus, however, couldn’t care less—Alec _is_ strong, and he doesn’t need to prove it right this second. 

“Okay,” Magnus whispers, pressing a kiss to his head. “Just hold on tight, okay?”

Alec nods, and Magnus hums, collecting his limbs. It takes a bit of shifting to get his arm under Alec’s knees, the other wrapped around his waist, but he manages it, and then it’s just a matter of getting his feet under him. With a little bit of magic, he does just that. He then carries Alec the short distance to the master bedroom.

The bed is bare, which confuses him only for a moment. Alec was nesting—of course he took the sheets. Magnus waves a finger and they reappear, crumpled in a heap. He thinks for a moment before he waves the finger again, summoning their clothes from the bathroom and a few more from the closet. He sets he knee on the edge of the bed and lowers Alec down on top, gently prying Alec’s arms off his neck as he goes. “Here,” he says, and presses some of the cloth into Alec’s hands. “Make us a nest while I call Jace to tell him that everything is okay now.”

“You—you’re coming back, right?” Alec asks, a flash of panic in his scent. 

Magnus pulls him forward, tucking the omega’s nose against his scent gland once more. “I’m not even going to leave the room, sweetheart,” he says.

Alec nods, swallowing. Then he leans back, and begins to pull at the sheets, adjusting them.

Magnus smiles, leaving him to it. With a snap of his fingers his phone is in his hand—he dials Jace up, holding his breath.

The alpha picks up in half a ring. _“What happened?”_ he demands, a low growl ringing over the line.

Magnus sighs. “He found something with my blood on it—”

The swear that comes from the speaker is so loud that Magnus has to remove it from his ear. _“What the hell is wrong with you? Why did you have something with your blood lying around for him to find?”_

“I…” Magnus grips the phone, watching from the other side of the room as Alec kneads at their sheets, bunching them up with the pillows. “It was a mistake. Believe me, it won’t be happening again.”

Jace growls a second time, deeper and lower than before. _“Put me on speaker.”_

Magnus does, approaching the bed slowly. “Alexander? Jace wants to talk to you.”

Alec nods. He makes to take the phone but Magnus holds it up for him, gesturing for him to keep doing what he’s doing with the sheets. 

“Um. Hi,” Alec says, clearing his throat as he twists a shirt in his hands. “I didn’t mean to—um. Freak out. Sorry about that.”

_“Apologize and I’ll kill you,”_ Jace says, at the same time as Magnus says, “You have nothing to apologize for, sweetheart.”

Alec shrinks down where he’s seated, his flushed face ducking low. “Yeah, I kind of… I kind of do? I shouldn’t have been snooping around in the apothecary, I knew I shouldn’t have touched it—”

_“Alec. Come on. Your instincts—”_

“I should be able to control them,” Alec says, dully, refusing to look up now. “Mom can.”

Jace swears again, and this time Magnus is inclined to swear with him. _“Magnus,”_ Jace says, almost a whine. _“Tell him. He’ll listen to you.”_

Magnus isn’t so sure about that, but still, he takes a deep breath, crouching down beside the bed to meet Alec’s eyes. “Alexander, having strong instincts isn’t a bad thing,” he says, as Jace hums an agreement. “You aren’t anything less just because you feel things the way you do. You spent so long suppressing your instincts that you’re not used to them, and that’ll take some time to adjust to, but you’re not any less because you feel more than other people do.”

Alec sniffs. “But I—”

_“No buts,”_ Jace says. _“I can handle anything you throw my way,_ parabatai _. Now eat something and get some sleep, understood? That_ _’s an order from your pack alpha.”_

“Yeah. I’ll—yeah.”

_“Good.”_

They say their goodbyes, and Alec finishes up with the nest, curling up on his side in it while Magnus summons up some food. Alec pats the space beside him when Magnus comes up to the edge of the bed, hovering there with a question in his eyes.

Magnus smiles, slipping into the nest with Alec’s permission. They share the finger food, Alec’s head resting on Magnus’s shoulder as Magnus feeds him bites, until Alec falls asleep with his body curled around Magnus’s side. 

Magnus snaps the food away and settles in, holding him close.

***

_Breathe, Lightwood._

Alec inhales, slowly, focusing on the motion. He’s so relaxed that he keeps forgetting that he needs to breathe—he feels like he’s melting into a puddle of chocolate. 

Standing above him, Magnus chuckles. “Don’t fall asleep in the water, darling. I’ve had quite enough excitement for the week.”

With a hum, Alec leans into Magnus’s hands, encouraging him to massage a little harder with the shampoo. The water lapping around his chest—blissfully cool, a balm against his heated skin—is sweetly scented, and mingles perfectly with the scent of Magnus beside him. Magnus’s fingers work deftly at his scalp, digging in just where it feels the best, and Alec lets out a low moan, shifting.

The first full day of the heat had been… uncomfortable. He wasn’t very hungry, and he got panicky whenever either of them had to get out of the nest, even to go to the bathroom. By the end of the day, however, he’d started to feel a little better, and now, two days after the incident, he’s feeling, dare he say… _frisky_.

It’s a welcome change. Still, he’s not sure if he really wants to do anything major—he’s definitely not in the mood to be knotted, and expending a lot of energy doesn’t seem like it would be fun at this point in time. He kind of wants something slow and lazy, something sweet.

Something that will remind him that Magnus is here, and he’s okay, and he’s staying.

“Hey,” Magnus says, sultry, in his ear. Alec realizes with a twinge of embarrassment that he was moaning just thinking about it, his cock hard under the surface of the bath. 

He huffs, tugging at Magnus’s fingers. “Come in with me?” he asks.

Magnus laughs. “I will, darling. Just dip your head for me so you don’t get shampoo in your eyes.”

Alec does, dunking his head under the water and scrubbing out the shampoo. When he comes back up Magnus is standing above him once more, preparing to get into the cool water. Alec hums in appreciation—this is a fine view, if he does say so himself. Especially as Magnus swings his leg over the edge and seats himself on Alec’s stomach, knees on either side of Alec.

“Tell me what you want,” Magnus says, scooting back until Alec’s cock is nestled at his backside. He rocks slightly, and Alec gasps.

“Just you,” Alec says, surprising himself with how steady his voice is. “I just want you.”

“I can do that,” Magnus says, leaning down to press a kiss to his lips.

Alec smiles. He can’t believe he was ever nervous.

**Author's Note:**

> Cheers!


End file.
